


Lost in Feeling

by RobinWritesChirps



Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jane Lives AU, Negotiations, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Unprotected Sex, but like barely, not that it matters whatsoever for this fic, she’s Becky Houston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22897222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: Tom and Becky’s date night without the kids suffers from one major oversight − but nothing they can’t find a way around.(Y’all I don’t know what I’m doing but I had loads of fun writing this so hopefully you enjoy it too lol)
Relationships: Becky Barnes/Tom Houston
Comments: 17
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is like, razor thin close to being PWP of Tommy railing Beck hard but like, if this is of any interest, this is actually set in an AU I plan on writing later on of a situation where Stanley and not Jane died in a car crash and what that means for all people involved.

Becky had wished for a long time for a family of her own. Only with Tom, of course, and indeed the turn of fate that had brought him back in her arms had pulled with it the Foster girls and, she supposed, his son every other week. None she had borne herself, yet she loved them all the same. She loved Tom first, though, and craved him on her own for all she adored family time. She did love her family more than anything. Tom was just the chief member of it.

Much as she adored spending time with them all, she loved the occasional night with only her husband. Tim at Jane and Emma's till the end of the week, Hannah on a school trip, Lex of course at Deb's, Tom and Becky were finally home alone. Rain was pouring in streams outside the windows but in here, cozy in their bed, Becky felt anything but cold. Every garment had been taken off with ever more haste as the evening went on, making out quickly turning to much bolder touches. Tom's hands holding her, touching her, kisses at her lips, her breasts, between her legs best of all, lighting up a fire that longed to burn hot and to burn fast.

"Come here, Tom," she whispered. He found his place between her spread thighs. Warm fingers took over his own around his dick and she moaned at how hard he was, as ready for her as she was for him. He kissed her. "I want you now."

Tom leaned on an elbow, grinning at her dumbly as he reached into the nightstand drawer blindly. Frowning, he had to look and his eyes got wide with surprise. 

"We’re out," he growled. "Fucking hell." 

"We’re out?" She turned to look and Tom showed her the empty box of condoms. "Oh, shit." 

A lone empty wrapper was taunting them at the bottom of the box. Becky sighed. 

"We’re never out, and then the one day…" 

Tom checked the second drawer, the third. Her hand was still around him, keeping him hard and ready, though every new little nook explored was another disappointment. 

"Ah, fuck this, we’re really out." 

He slumped down into her, groaning into her neck. Becky kissed his hair. 

"I have to go get some at the…" 

She tugged on his dick, which made him grunt sharply. As if she was going to let him leave her here all alone in a bed empty of him.

"You’re not leaving this room," she said decisively. "Or this bed."

Up and down her palm, spreading wetness from the tip, how hard under her touch. How much she craved it, even as she was touching him. The kids out, not having to be quiet, the night only to each other. She couldn’t stand the thought of not having him. In her hand wasn't enough, not nearly. 

"You’re not helping, babe…" He said in a grumble, leaning up on an elbow again to look at her. 

She smiled.

"Aren’t I?" 

With the other hand, she caught his wrist and brought his fingers between her legs. Tom all too readily took the hint, thumb heavy and insistent at her clit, fingers sliding inside smoothly, deliciously. She sighed. 

"I want you so bad," she said, closing her eyes to indulge in him. 

Their hands next to each other, how close he was and yet. He touched her good, at least, but she wanted so much more. 

"How strong is your pullout game, Tommy?" 

He looked at her like she had suggested they had sex in the middle of the street, so out there the idea. His hand went limp on her, for which she could have whimpered in frustration and desire. 

"Are you sure?" He frowned. 

She pushed himself into his fingers, taking the forgotten caress herself. Tom stared down at the point of contact. His dick was still so ridiculously hard in her hand. 

"Only if you are," she said.

It took all of one breath of hesitation. Fingers gone, thumb gone, Tom pushed inside her like he had not had a good fuck in his life and only now was making the most of it. The groan he gave, pressing his face into her neck, was so loud she was afraid he’d come in the next minute and all would be over much too soon, but he had always been her big reliable guy, hadn’t he? He wasn’t one to spoil the fun. 

"You okay there?" She smirked. 

For an answer, Tom gave her a kiss, if kiss was enough to describe the burning passion of his, tongue and everything, kissing her hard and almost rough, if Tom could ever be rough with her. His breath was coming up panting and he started to fuck her and suddenly everything seemed alright in the world. 

"Never… done… that…" Every word was muttered between his thrusts, as if in rhythm, and Becky could only lie there to take the horny little song of his lovemaking. "… with you before." 

"Was it worth the wait, then?" 

Tom was beyond conversing with her. There was something a bit savage about him, though the tenderness was still there too, hidden under the surface. She had been wanting him, craving him, yet now that he was giving himself whole to her she wanted him even more. She felt like he was everywhere, touching her breasts, holding her waist, her thighs, kissing her hard, her lips, her neck, her nipples. She didn’t know if she could have especially felt any difference in the sensation of having him bare inside her, not like he did, but she felt a thousand times the difference in Tom. 

"You feel so fucking good," he said, perhaps for his own sake, though he was looking right down at her and her alone in the erratic passion of his. "So good, babe."

"Yeah," she said, moaning and whimpering at every goddamn thrust. She could lose herself in his love, the way he made it to her. "You do me so good, Tom…" 

He gave her his everything and Becky could only marvel at how, even when he was giving her the railing of a lifetime, he could still stare down into her eyes, lovestruck and enamored, the gentleness clashing hard against the raw and rough energy of every other part of him. 

"Yeah?" 

"You..." She was panting, clutching hopelessly at his back, his arms, anything to latch onto as she took the hurricane of him as best as she possibly could. "You fuck me so good, babe."

Becky was hardly ever crude, even with him. Perhaps for that reason, her utterance urged him to even greater passion. She was so full of him and always he gave her more and more. He’d always been big, even back when they were young and foolish, but no part of her was in pain or so much as uncomfortable, as he well made sure. Pulling up her leg, he deepened the angle and groaned out at the sensation he had created. 

"Fuck."

He hooked her knee over his shoulder, kissed the calf as it sat there. The leg dropped a bit as he leaned down to kiss her lips again, nested in the crook of his elbow, but it was all the same to her. She pulled up the other one and Tom grabbed it for her. The position became clumsier as Tom’s relentless pace never slowed, but Becky couldn’t care less, pushing her hips up into his over and over, hardly in rhythm with him, with anything but the fire burning inside. She only wanted Tom, and she was getting more of him than ever. Briefly, she thought of how cocky he could get sometimes as a teenager, promising her a ploughing so good she would limp the next day. She supposed near twenty years later still counted for cashing out on the promise. 

"I’m close," he said in a grumble.

Looking at her like a wonder of the world, like he could hardly believe in her presence here under him. His fingers slid between them to rub her clit insistently and Becky smiled. She touched his face, his hair. She loved him so very much when he took her to bed. 

"Would it really be so bad?" She asked. "If you didn’t pull out?" 

His gaze hardened ever so slightly. The touch of his fingers so hurried, yet absolutely perfect. She was so close, just a little bit harder… 

"Babe, I’d really rather not have this conversation while I’m… Ugh, fuck."

Of course he pulled out when he had to, his fingers pushing in just in time for Becky to feel herself pulse around them and she moaned out loudly, bucking herself into them several times before finally the orgasm ran its course and her back hit the bed again. Tom was staring down at her with a curious adoration, but she couldn’t even mumble a word of thanks, any remark she might have uttered now fucked out of her. Slick and beyond satisfied, she smiled lazily and he gave her the softest of kisses. His fingers brushed down her hair and he looked at her with tenderness and an odd curiosity. Whatever question he had in mind stayed in his mind and he rolled off of her. The loud pitter-patter of the rain outside lulled her quiet for the minute of his absence.

He came back from the bathroom with a wet wash cloth to clean her up, which was a different ballpark of intimacy and might have been odd from anyone but him. She couldn’t have mustered up the strength to lift herself from this bed if she had tried. All traces of the naughty deed gone, he lay back flat on the bed and sighed out heavily in contentment. Becky found her place in his arms, her head against his shoulder, fingers toying and tracing hearts against his chest. She loved the rise and fall of every breath, the calm after the storm. Tom was staring at the ceiling.

"We’ll talk about what you said tomorrow, alright?"

She nodded, already tired. He was so very comfortable and warm. She kissed his shoulder, smiled to herself, but she noticed he was frowning. 

"I wouldn’t…" He turned to her and she realized just how earnest he looked. "I wouldn’t just come inside you without talking about it first. I’d never do that."

She wondered if he had found her too bold, too demanding, and tried to coax him back into forgiveness. 

"What if it was the end of the world or something?" She teased, tapping her fingers playfully against his chest, but his gaze was wholly unchanged and she sighed. "No, I know you wouldn’t. I was just teasing, I…" 

She loved to look into his eyes. Even when she was unsure of herself, when she didn’t know what he was feeling, she knew she could never find anything but warmth in them. He seemed to sense the unease and smiled at her for reassurance. Eventually, he pulled her even closer, on top of him for cuddles and she could have purred when he wrapped the both of them in their blankets, so cozy she felt. 

"That was the best sex I’ve had in… Shit, I don’t even remember when." 

She nodded approvingly and Tom kissed the top of her head. She smiled and closed her eyes. 

"My body’s gonna kill me tomorrow, though," he added. "Fuck, I’m old."

She snorted. 

"And mine, big guy," she said, and found herself cut by a yawn. All energy had gone from her the moment Tom’s fingers had pulled out of her. The way he had pleasured her tonight had felt like ten times, a hundred times more than the once. "It was worth it."

He was holding her and she enjoyed and basked in the sensation, the weight of his arms on her back. She wondered if she could fall asleep just like that. Tom, it seemed, was still very far from slumber and she pushed herself up a little to look at him. Hand in his beard, in his hair. She smiled at him and though he looked less tense than before, she could still feel him preoccupied.

"What is it?" 

"Do you want us to have… I mean… Is that why you said that? Or was it just a sex thing?" 

She blinked. She was so exhausted, so much more so when everything about the warmth and comfort of him was begging for her to melt into the embrace for the rest of the night and then some. 

"Tomorrow, Tom," she said and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Goodnight."

She tucked her face comfortably in his neck and didn’t have to wait a second before he held her so close again. She smiled against his scratchy skin. 

"Well, I love you," he said. A kiss on top of her hair, tousled and sweaty but they’d take a shower together tomorrow, too. "Night, babe." 

Warm and satisfied in his arms, Becky reminded herself how lucky she was to have found him again. It wasn’t all rosy and some days she forgot just how happy she ought to be but every time he held her close, she remembered. He loved her so well, every day as he cared for her soul, her heart, and more than ever tonight for her body. She had almost forgotten how much she had loved him until she did again. 

He was her family, he would always be. Whatever else that could mean, that would just have to wait for tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This so didn’t require a part 2 and yet here I am. You’re welcome.

Tom, for once, woke before Becky. She had never been a great sleeper, not since youth, though she said that in his arms she did sleep better than she had in all of their years apart. This morning, her face was as peaceful as could be, her little nose squinting up in her sleep, the soft rise and fall of her breath as he held her close. Her hair was tousled, bordering on messy after last night. He smiled and nuzzled into it, the soft ginger cascade over her shoulder and his. He watched, waited.

"Tom," she sighed comfortably when she woke a whole while later.

He kissed her shoulder, caressing her back and pulling her closer for cuddles.

"Sleep well, angel?" He asked and found his voice raspy from slumber.

Becky nodded lazily and kissed the crook of his neck. She stretched her arms, a long sleepy cat, and snuggled right back into his embrace.

"Are you sore?" She muttered. "I’m sore." She smiled against his skin. "You did me good last night."

He chuckled. Her naked back was so soft, warm under the blankets. In truth, he was a bit sore as well, his body reminding him he was just a little too old for all this crap. He liked this in an odd sort of way, knowing that as teens, as adults, he loved her all the same and showed her good. They weren’t all that old anyways. Not too old, at least. Even if they didn’t have hours long sessions of mind-blowing sex every other day anymore, he was fine with that just every so often when the more complicated life they now had allowed it.

"Becky?"

"Mmh?"

He scratched her scalp comfortably. Every morning, especially when they lingered in bed on such lucky days, he was filled again and again with the peaceful realization that Becky was back in his life to stay forever. A ring around her finger after all those years, his last name now theirs, the girls they had taken in, his boy every other week. They had a life together, a future entwined as far as he could imagine. He kissed the top of her head.

"What you said yesterday," he said simply.

He thought she tensed up in his embrace, but the moment was so fleeting he might have made it up out of his own nerve.

"Babe, I…"

With a finger under her chin, he turned her fretting face to his, resting side by side on the same pillow. Eyelids still a bit heavy with sleep, lightly pink cheeks. He blinked and smiled to soothe her.

"I just wanna talk about it," he said, "That’s all." He kissed the tip of her nose, pulled her closer to him by the waist. "What did you… What did you mean?"

She sighed as if frustrated with herself, but her fingers reached up to toy with the hair at his neck to calm herself down.

"It’s silly," she said, her voice a tiny little whisper.

He kissed her again, her lips always so soft and perfect under his. A hand at her neck, thumb stroking her cheek. He gave her a little time. She pressed their foreheads together.

"We’re thirty-six years old," she said. "And there’s money and space, and the girls and Tim and…"

"But what do you _want_?"

She kissed him, arching herself into him with something like desperation. Her hands were clasped round his cheeks to keep him close and Tom’s arm tightened around her waist.

"I want you," she replied, a seductive tone that made him grin.

"And?"

She closed her eyes and the embrace turned soft and loose, head falling back against the pillow as if to sleep again, but her fingers kept twirling locks of his hair around them and she was pouting in the most adorable way.

"What do you want me to say, Tommy? Put a baby in my belly? You know what I meant."

He beamed wider than ever, which made Becky smile in turn when she opened her eyes anxiously to check his reaction. Her fingers slowed down, held his cheek, her thumb catching against his lower lip and he pressed a soft kiss to the tip of it.

"You wanna?" He asked. "I always wanted…"

He huffed in self depreciation and Becky quirked a quizzical brow at him. He kissed her, shook his head.

"Remember when we’d sit and chat for hours," he said and combed his fingers through soft red hair, "And tell ourselves how life would be when we’d grow up? Two, three, five kids, everything."

She nodded. All the hopes they had shared, gone for years before finally, they could dream a little again.

"Jane wanted one kid, so. We had one kid."

She gave him a kind smile. As a rule she always, always kept, she never said a word against Jane and he knew that very well. Perhaps the guilt of having stolen him from her again, from making the Perkins-Houston marriage just a break between eras of Becky Barnes. None of it was Jane's fault and she made sure never to pretend otherwise. He made a habit of doing just the same, not just for Tim’s sake but because, though separated, he had loved Jane with a sincere heart and found no fault in her. He alone was to blame for having loved another more. This would be the first flaw he could name against her, but then as now, he knew that how many times she put her body through pregnancy was strictly up to her. Becky, all the same, was to make that decision for herself.

"I wanted…" She caught herself, gathered her thoughts, went on. "Back then, I wanted a family with you so bad. Just like we promised each other."

He took her hand in his to kiss the palm of it and her eyes softened. Another kiss pressed at her lips and she was much better soothed still.

"I didn’t want it with anybody else, not with… I made sure I never did, then." She tucked herself closer to Tom for him to comfort her. "But I found you again. And we _have_ a family. So I don’t know why I’m still wishing."

He loved the caress of her hair against his bare skin, the way her leg pressed between his for even greater contact, her hands in his. He loved every single thing about her perhaps all the more for the years without her. They had each other again and for good this time. It hadn’t been too late to love her again and forever just like they had used to swear. It wasn’t too late at all for the rest of it too.

"We’re not _that_ old," he sighed out. A hand sliding down the crook of her back, warming up soft skin with the caress of his fingertips, lost in her long hair. "Lex has been almost moved out anyways by now, I can build a nursery myself, we can find ways to cut back on other stuff, we can thrift." He looked into her eyes and found her staring up at him lovingly in the way that always made his heart clench, the same as it did when he was young and foolish and stupid in love. "If you want a baby, we can have a baby, Becky."

Her lip quivered in emotion, eyes sparking up with the same adoration and she pressed herself up to kiss him long and kiss him good. They parted, smiling at each other so stupid, for a brief moment dumb teenagers lost in promises again.

"I think I do," she muttered in a shy voice.

She lay back flat, wordlessly begging for him on top of her and Tom readily took the command, kissing her into the pillow, into the mattress. Her legs parted for him, her toes dug into his calves and she gave him such pretty moans when Tom wet his fingers in his mouth and traced a trail downwards.

"Then I want that too," he replied in kind.

One finger pressing in, Becky rocking herself into the touch but their eyes were fixed only on each other. Pressing down, filling her up with his caress and her mouth dropped open in the most enticing whimper Tom could only kiss for himself. His lips on hers, down her jaw, her cheeks, nibbling the lobe of an ear as he touched her. Thumb at her clit, a second finger pressing in. He loved the way he could please her, the way she awakened at his caress, he loved feeling so wanted by her, even needed.

"I've always thought you were cut out for it," he said in a low voice. Becky was gripping his shoulders tight. "To love and to hold. You've always been the best of women." He breathed in deep her hair, the smell of her, the memory of last night. "The best of wives."

"Tom..."

She was loosening around his fingers, sliding in and out with ever greater ease, the embrace Tom always made himself crazy with, wet and snug and hot. He kissed her breasts, marveled at their perfect shape and taste, the feel of a hardening nipple between his lips, of her hands catching onto the back of his neck tightly in his hair. He was getting hard, but only Becky's pleasure mattered now. He'd had more than his share last night.

"I want everything," he said, "With _you_."

The guilty, secret part of him wished they had never parted, not for one second in his life. Of course, it had been so and every time his son smiled at him, he knew that the life he had had instead was well worth it. But the desperation of every moment of Becky Barnes back in his arms made him wonder exactly who he would have been if she had never left them. Loving her didn't feel the same as Jane had, it was different. The even guiltier part of him was certain it was better. Becky moaned and squirmed and begged and he felt so alive, every part of him pulsing with joy and desire.

"Kiss me, Tom," she asked softly.

He leaned down on an elbow and kissed her, and lived for the way her breath hitched despite herself when his fingers pushed in her again and again gently as he kissed her. Her hand slid between their bodies, pushing him a little bit up so that she could make it all the way down. She touched him and he groaned at the feel of her small fingers around him, always finding a way to please him more than he could ever ask for.

"You wanna make a baby, Becky Houston?" He asked with a dumb goofy grin.

She kissed him for an answer, but guided him to her and her eyes lit up with magic and wonder when he pressed inside. It was ridiculous, really, how much he was letting it get to his hazy horny mind. Of course, the grip of her right around him was something different, the sensation so much more intimate, more real. The true appeal was something more shameful, the probably outdated notion that their connection was far greater when the very last barrier between them was gone. As if he hadn’t already felt closest to her before, condom or not. He didn’t know what Becky thought of it, if he was just imagining the twinkle in her eyes out of his own rosy emotions.

As yesterday had been all passion, almost animalistic and relentless, today was softness and comfort. It wasn’t so much that he was used and jaded to the sensations by now − maybe he never would be and certainly not after just the once − rather that, lost in feeling for Becky, he was naturally falling to a much quieter pace where the only pursuit and effort was to make her feel loved beyond everything. He kissed her and kept his face close to hers, feeling the warmth of her breath against him, her forehead under his.

"This feels so nice, Tom," she told him in a low voice as her hands wrapped around his biceps.

A slow roll in and out, he felt like every sensation was made more acute, more vivid. He could never tire of it, how strong, how perfect he felt when she looked up at him in their marriage bed, the adoration in her gaze. It made him feel like he was worth something, everything.

"I love you," he said and kissed her. "I love you."

He wanted to hold her tight, to bury his face in her hair, her neck, but the very thought of looking away was insufferable to him this morning. Staring at each other with the same intensity as last night, but he had fucked her last night, quite thoroughly at that, and was making love to her this morning. A world of difference, yet exactly the same love pumping through his heart. He cherished her all the much more for the duality.

"I love you," she replied and her hands slid up his shoulders, his neck, so warm and comfortable.

Unhurried, they found each other with all the leisure and time in the world. Of course, the sensation of her right around his dick nice and snug was something but the connection he felt had everything to do with the sentimentality of the conversation prior. Loving Becky so much, being loved in return to the point of wanting to create a whole new human being that was a bit of them both. Being bound together till the rest of their lives not just in promises but in an actual person that was the sum of their parts. Tom had always wanted a family. He had always wanted Becky. He had both already, and he wanted more of it.

Her legs caught warmly around his hips and he felt her hand slide between them as she touched herself. With every leisurely thrust, the tips of her fingers were butting against his dick and he groaned at the simple sensation, her pleasure decupling his.

"You like this, babe?" He asked, kissing and kissing and kissing her. "You feel it too?"

What exactly he was asking, he couldn’t have put into more precise words. The connection, he supposed. The love even greater than before. But Becky only smiled and kissed his nose and nodded.

"I feel it," she muttered. "I feel _you_."

A hand at her cheek to keep himself grounded, he couldn’t tire of the numb look of pleasure in her gaze. Her fingers rubbing slow circles around her clit, his efforts to make this as sentimental, as intimate as his own heart was longing for, they were together in perfect harmony, caught in a little snippet of time where, though bursting with adoration and longing, they were wholly at peace.

"I’m close," she said.

Perhaps she had meant that as permission for Tom to take greater liberties, back to the frantic beast he had been the night before, but that was just about the last thing he was craving in this instant and he kept making love to Becky just the same as he had, slow and steady. Only her fingers seemed more intent on catching that climax for both of them and Tom could only smile down at her efforts. The hand at his back dug tight. He pulled out of her almost completely, pressed back in with one smooth roll of his hips, and the simple motion did her just right.

" _Tom_ ," she whimpered.

He thought he would lose his damn mind when he felt her clamp around him, clenching around his dick tight, then gradually looser, and he told himself that all the times he had felt her orgasms before were nothing, so dull through the condom compared to Becky’s pleasure gripping right around his dick. He hadn’t thought he was this close but before he could realize he was spilling inside of her and Becky stared up in amazement. Her cheeks were pink, her hair now truly messy, her mouth open to catch up her breath.

"Ah, fuck," he blurted out, leaning to press his face close to hers to linger the intimacy on and on even now that love had been made. "Shit."

She huffed. Slowly, both her hands caught around his shoulders again, at his neck, and he felt against his skin how deliciously wet the fingers of one hand still were. Pulling out, he felt the obscene and slick slide out and pushed his own fingers inside one last time like a period to end the perfect sentence, to feel her good once more.

"You think we did it, babe?"

She shook her head. Her hips were pushing into his touch but in a slurry, lazy way, not nearly enough left in them for another round so soon. He pulled the fingers out again after one last caress, ridiculously satisfied. Maybe in some months, in a year, after whatever time it might take. He rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms. Her face in his neck, the hot press of her skin and breath against him, he felt perfectly at peace, at home.

"I don't know," she replied. "I'm okay with trying again."

He chuckled softly. Becky's fingers were tracing hearts against his chest.

"Are we telling the kids, or... ?"

The fingers stopped for a brief moment. Still a bit sticky, and they hadn't showered last night either so Tom knew they inevitably would have to get out of bed and start on the day, preferably with a hot bath together, but with the kids out, the house all for themselves, he was fine with waiting just a little bit longer and be slightly gross with his wife for the time being.

"No," she said with more certainty than he had expected. He glanced down at her, but Becky's eyes were closed. "We'll tell them if it comes to it. If... if we do."

He nodded. How silly it was to be back in bed with Becky Barnes, with Becky Houston, and dream up a perfect little family life again. How much sense it made, how absolutely fitting, too. No matter if they'd done it today, no matter if they still needed as many very enthusiastic tries as it could take or, heaven forbid, if the cards held something different for them and their efforts were unrewarded, Tom could only hope that never they would stop dreaming right here in each other's arms.


End file.
